Last Saturday we fed about 200 people.

We gathered in the reception hall where the fragrance of pinto beans and ham hocks, simmering on a restaurant grade stove, filled the entire space.  We whipped up salad and cut the home-made corn bread into generous squares.  Hundreds of cookies were placed in a giant bowl, ready to be placed on plates.

Tables were set with placemats and napkins.  There were tables for couples and parties of six or four.  For those attending this luncheon, people were waited on; orders were taken.  Special attention was given  the small children.  Some tears were wiped and mothers were made to feel at home.  Families came and filled the larger tables.  Seconds and thirds were filled with as much care as the firsts.

The volunteers were, by any standard, elderly.  Bent with arthritis, moving a little slowly, hearing a little impeded, they still walked with grace among those they had come to serve.  Laughter could be heard in the crowded dining room as the servers made up “to go” containers and wrapped extra cookies for the kids.

No sermon was given, no call to conversion, no biblical words spoken. It wasn’t necessary.

The whole thing was a prayer.

It’s been twenty years since I found the courage to leave an abusive relationship.  Verbally and physically abused by my husband for years, I’d lost the self esteem to see myself as a mother with three children who could survive in the world alone.

While Iagree that it would not have been possible for my ex husband to have used me as a punching bag without my participation or seeming belief in the need for my own punishment;  it is simplistic to  believe this is the only reason.  The tales of domestic violence are usually far more  complex.

One of the issues involves staying in the relationship after having been attacked, shoved, verbally assaulted or actually caused physically harm the first time.  The relationship enters a vortex in which the recipient, regarding her own self esteem, is pulled further and further into a downward spin.

Anxiety, shame, depression and an overwhelming sense of powerlessness become operatives in the decline of the person at the other end of the stick.

As in most addictive types of behavior, I believe the sense of shame and guilt which arises in the woman exposed to the humiliation of assault by somone she loves is an overriding factor.  It causes someone already fragile in their own sense of self to lose their bearings.

The horrible truth of my situation, and I have come to believe, of most domestic violence situations is that I could see it coming.  My partner drank excessively and when he did became violent.  At first, it was the bar fight type of aggression.  The most significant observation I had early on, however, was his attitude toward  his mother and women in general. To state it simply, he had no respect for women.  He did not use language in reference to women which spoke of their dignity and worth.   In the beginning, one of his favorite activities was to embarrass me in front of groups of friends by pointing out what he thought was my lack of intelligence.

Twenty years have passed and I still bear some of the scars.  Certainly, my children do.  I have never been with a man since and probably, at this late date, never will.  My fear of them is too great.

Women must, I believe, know that rarely does an abusive man fly out of his closet, guns blaring.  There are signs all along the way, pointing in the direction where the relationship will go.

As women we must learn there is nothing we can do to change our partners.  Our lives remain our responsibility as theirs remain their own.

The heartache of tearing up families, relocating and finding new work, is nothing compared to the horror of staying.

I still believe today, had I not left, my ex husband would have killed me and I would have died for nothing.